Wednesday, 18 February 2009

Your mission should you choose to accept it... to invent a new squish round for Wavey and me. Currently we have:
  • play in the style of (Mick Jagger, Amy Winehouse, Miss Piggy etc.)
  • name the ball after your least favourite person of the week (Wavey's was The Ref last week) and smash the crap out of it
  • play with your left hand (surprisingly amusing and v. difficult)
This blog post will self-destruct, erm, never.

Sunday, 15 February 2009

Goosebumps and spine tingles

For a lot of people Friday the 13th is not a good day. If you're superstitious at all you'd be wanting to bury your head under your duvet and not leave the house just in case something awful happened. For me, Friday the 13th was a day to get excited about this year. Because it was the day that I was finally getting to see Ray LaMontagne.

Let me tell you about my love for Ray. I remember so clearly the very first time I heard him. It was on Jonathan Ross's Radio 2 Saturday morning show and I was probably cleaning the house cos that's when I have the radio on. This husky voice started coming out of my radio that literally stopped me in my tracks. He was singing Trouble. And I was hooked. I immediately tracked down his cd. And the one after that. And the one after that. And I joined his mailing list so I'd get all the exciting news about tours and new releases.

When I got the email about his Spring tour and that it was coming to the Sage I ran around to my locker, texted Wavey and excited asked the question: can we go, can we, can we? Of course the answer was yes because it wasn't really a question, I wasn't asking permission, it was simply an overly excited way of squealing that Ray was coming to town and we HAD to go and see him. Tickets got booked. Jumping about was done. Then the countdown began...

...until Friday 13th slowly rolled around. Not only was it going to be an exciting night because of Ray. It was also going to be so good cos it was the first time Wavey and I had been to a gig together. And it was up at The Sage which is a very unusual building indeedy. I've attached a photo for those of you not familiar with it:

When we got there I couldn't believe it. It was so nice, so clean looking, so...posh! We took our seats and got ready for the big show. The support act was okay. She was called Priscilla Ahn. She had a beautiful voice and she was funny and a wee bit kooky, but her songs had a few too many ooooohs and la la lahs for me. Popped out to get a drink for the interval and had to wait whilst some stupid man put £2 on his switch card and the machine broke and the poor guy behind the bar looked ready for a meltdown...and then it was time!

The hall went to black. The small group of artists came on. And there was Ray! Just a few feet away from me! He was so much skinnier than I expected. But then he started to sing. And my whole body goosebumped. Oh wow. I grabbed Wavey's arm, I couldn't believe we were actually there. That Ray was singing with his band. Right in front of me. Beyond belief. I don't actually have any concept of how long he played for but I knew when they started to walk off I was like, noooo, he can't go yet. Really I just wanted him to stay there and me to stay in my seat in row K and he could just keep singing to me forever. Goosebumps, spine tingles, he was so incredibly amazing. It seemed like a good idea to blog about it but now that I'm actually here trying to write about it, I can't think of the words to describe it to you.

It was such an unusual gig. For a start we were sitting down. I'm used to bouncing around and jumping up and down and singing along. Not really appropriate for where we were. The band were in a semi-circle and Ray stood to the right of the stage, not centre stage like is normal for a lead singer. I think it's fair to say that he is all about the music. He barely spoke in between songs, there were lengthy silences with the odd guitar twang whilst they had small discussions amongst themselves. When he did speak though he was very funny! Which again was surprising as he's such a serious soul. In all, it was a very memorable night. So thanks Ray, for coming to play my town. And for those of you who've not heard him, let me know and I'll pass on his cds. Trust me, they're worth a listen or two...

Thursday, 12 February 2009

For Pat

It's been a tough work week this one. I arrived at work ready to make everyone laugh with my tale of falling flat on my backside outside of McDonalds in the ice on Monday and how it was a good job it was well padded cos it didn't really hurt that much. It was never to be though. I walked into the section as usual and noticed that there was a very sombre tone about libraryland. One of my closest friends in work was waiting to tell me that one of our much loved colleagues had died over the weekend. To say that a state of disbelief rested over us all would be putting it mildly. I thought long and hard about whether to blog about this but then I sat down just now and thought how tickled Pat would be so I've decided I will.

I got an email at work today asking me to write a few words about Pat. It took me a long time to decide what to write, mainly because she wasn't someone you could sum up very easily. To the outside world she was a rather smart, rather well spoken lady. But we in libraryland know that really she could swear worse than a sailor. And did. Frequently. She was never afraid to say exactly what she thought. And usually in the worst language she could dream up. In fact, it would be fair to say that she eff-ed and jeff-ed her way around the library on a daily basis.

She was my journals assistant so I worked very closely with her. There's so many tales I could tell I'm not even sure where to begin. So I'm going to pick out my choice memories and share a few of them with you readers. She was, I believe, a rather dotty old bugger. She walked around on a broken foot for 3 weeks before she finally got herself off to the A&E. A few hours later we all got a bit worried when we heard this tap tap tapping noise - yep that was Pat struggling back into the library on crutches. And she only agreed to go home when she was called a "health and safety issue" needless to say she might have gone home but she didn't do it quietly, there was a few choice words muttered to me as she waited for her taxi.

And she was totally obsessed with the newspapers. They frequently go missing from the building and it became Pat's personal mission to save them all, even the 42p local rag. If she'd have had her way they'd have been under lock and key that only she had access to. I heard a rumour today that the management bods would like to create a commemoration plaque for her. I suggested that it stand above the newspapers with a security strip attached to it and a warning that Pat is watching you! She'd be properly pleased about that.

When we started to clean out her desk we found 14 teaspoons in her top drawer. As well as 6 pairs of scissors, possibly all the pens that ever existed in the world in a carrier bag, a lot of varying sizes of post-it notes - a total stash of stationery! No wonder they took the key to the cupboard away from her! No-one could bring themselves to count the pairs of shoes she had hoarded away in the box under her desk but it was clear what she mainly used to buy from ebay, oh did I not mention she was addicted to that? As I've typed that last paragraph my eyes started to fill up again. I still can't quite believe that it's real. I keep expecting her to hobble over to my desk clutching a journal to ask me if it's gone on claim or not and then eff-ing and jeff-ing her way back to her desk...

We've reached a stage now where we are remembering her with funny stories now and eeeh do you remember when...we had a laugh today as well as a few tears once we'd all sent our words for the email. I summed mine up by saying that she was a wonderfully eccentric character with a wicked dry sense of humour. I'm going to miss her lots and she won't be easily forgotten.

So this is for you Pat. I'll watch over the papers for you... xx

Sunday, 8 February 2009


It's official blog readers. We are shite. We need a certificate for shite we're so good at it. There are three of us for this blog and in the past month not one of us has posted anything. This is truly shocking. And unacceptable. I can't comment for Fizz and Tizz but I'm going to explain why I haven't.

It's simply a matter of time. Truly. I'm so busy. Here we go:

Monday: I finish work at 4.30pm. Rush to the bus station (8 minutes is my personal best) get home in time to eat a quick snack before rushing off to my thai class which starts at 6.30pm. I stay at thai until I'm done before heading round to Wavey's and making us our Monday Thai dinner. Around 10pm after we've watched some scary ITV crime drama I head home where I have a bath and go to bed in order to be ready for
Tuesday: I finish work at 5pm. Rush to the bus station, come home and get changed into theatre clothes before heading round to Wavey's for dinner. At 7.30pm(ish) we head out to theatre where for the next 3 hours we paint, build sets, sweep up etc. We stay to have a drink with the Tuesday crew before heading home for a repeat of the bath/bed
And then it's Wednesday. My one free night. Except that hasn't been the case for the past few weeks cos I've been out for dinner with my girlies. Or cinema with the girlies.
Thursday it's the usual 5pm, bus station clash before coming home and making my dinner and then heading out for my drum lesson at 8pm. This lasts for half an hour. I come home and show off my newly learned skills to my drum kit (also known as my armchair) and then it's bath/bed
Before it's Friday, the end of the week and I'm very shleepy.
Saturday mornings are for lazing around before a big brunch at about 12, then it's back up to the theatre again to continue with the sets until approx 6pm. Thus the weekend begins.

And there you have it peeps. No time! The odd bits that I do have free the last thing I want to do is get my laptop out and think of something witty to write.

Thus in the past month, you've had nothing about my trip to London with Wavey where we were total culture vultures and took in the Rothko exhibition, the Annie Liebovitz exhibition, the 4 hours in the National Gallery and the Babylon exhibition at the British Museum. As well as fitting in visits to my uni peeps with babies, various meals consumed in the open air despite it being January, and lots of fun.

Or my birthday when I had all the girlies round for a drunken afternoon with glowing pink balloons and DISGUSTING amounts of food and tequila slammers in the middle of the day, plus some classic 80s movies of Ghostbusters and Pretty in Pink.

Or the joy of the drum lessons. How after my 30 minutes are up I come out of there with a huge grin on my face cos I love it so.

Or the movies that I've watched.

Or the soft porn crime fiction fest.

Or just stuff in general.

So I apologise peeps. I humbly accept my certificate of shite. And promise to do better.

Over and out x